


Two Spherical Seeds in a Capsule

by StrangeBird



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-06
Updated: 2013-01-03
Packaged: 2017-11-20 12:13:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/585305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrangeBird/pseuds/StrangeBird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fill for this prompt at the kink meme:</p><p>  <i>So, we all remember when Garrus mentioned to Tali that Dr. Michelle had sent him Turian chocolates? I want to see Shepard get jealous try to one-up the doctor's gift. Doesn't matter what the gift is. </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Little fill that got away on me, I'm cleaning it up for reposting here. I take a few liberties with the timeline in this story, so inconsistencies ahoy!

“ _She got you turian chocolate?”_

_“She said she saw it and thought of me. Why?”_

_“Watch yourself, Shepard.”_  


*******

 

“Hey.”

Garrus's fingers paused above at the console and his mandibles twitched in surprised pleasure.

“Hey yourself,” he said, spinning around to get a look at her. Shepard stood silhouetted in the doorway, hands clasped behind her back, lips set in that crooked twist that denoted satisfaction or amusement in humans. A warm feeling pooled in the pit of his stomach. “Back from the Citadel already?” 

“Yeah,” she shifted her weight to the left, and his eyes followed the curve of her waist.“Pretty simple,” she said, and he snapped his eyes back to her face. “No coups, no interviews, just a quick pass of the supply stores and hauled Vega's sorry ass back up here before he lost his shirt. Again.”

“You have always managed the impossible.”

“Call it a gift.”

Garrus looked fondly at her. “More like an inability to leave well enough alone.”

“Yeah, well, worked out pretty good for you.”  


“You won't hear me arguing with that.”

There was a moment's pause.

Garrus glanced back at the panel flashing an angry orange at him, and he felt a stab of guilt. “I'd love to chat a bit longer, but I've got a conference call from Victus scheduled in about ten and I'd better finish with this script before then.”

“Just a sec--”

He looked up, and Shepard's hands came from behind her back to hold out a cardboard carton before him.  


“Got something for you.”

“Resorting to bribery now, huh? This because you've taken me out on suicidal missions a total of four times this week instead of the usual three?” Carefully, he took the proffered carton and peeked inside. 

Soft golden dough, the enticing smell of baked berries. He blinked. “T'tu lavas?”

“Tell me this is, in fact, a turian pastry and not a miniature slab of drywall.”

Garrus laughed throatily, even though his translator didn't make it 100% obvious what a drywall was. “We had a nanny growing up, used to make this all the time. Haven't seen it in years. Where did you get it?”

“Speciality bakery Liara coerced me--”

“You mean blackmailed.”

“--to visit. Is it good?”

“I, ah.” He felt strangely disarmed by the sudden intensity of her gaze. “Well. It was a favourite of mine as a fledgling but around the time puberty hit I started having acute allergic reactions to patinae-fruit. Awful rashes. This one time--I was such a stupid kid-- one time I decided I didn't gave a damn and ate a whole pan of them anyway,” he chuckled. “Mom had to come home from work to fly me to the hospital and was she _livid_. That was the last—Shepard? Not like you to zone out.”

She startled, and a frown fled the twin arches of soft hair where her browplates would be. Brows. Eyebrows, they were called. 

“Ah, sorry about that. Sounds rough.”

“Well, at least I get to keep my girlish figure.”

She gave him a tired smile. “I like that girlish figure. Didn't know you had allergies. You know, besides the obvious.”

“Not a problem. Thanks for the thought.”

A heartbeat. 

“You know, Tali could probably eat it. I'm sure she'd appreciate a break from the nutri-paste.”

“Right. I'll let you get back to work. Talk to you later, Garrus.” 

The doors whooshed closed, and the room was cast into darkness again.

Odd. But not unwelcome.

Garrus powered off his console. Victus would be waiting, and he doubted if he'd be done before Shepard finished her shift and went for bed. He heaved a sigh. He'd have to catch her another night.

The lavas had smelled so good too. This day was disappointment after disappointment.

 


	2. Chapter 2

  
He shifted his weight from foot to foot uncomfortably. It had been a gruelling day, and the effort it took to stand up straight was sapping all that was left of his energy. He didn't know Samara well, but he they'd worked together. He liked and what was more, respected her. It didn't seem right they were privy to the most intimate details of her life, which seemed to be destined for nothing but tragedy. Hard to watch. And the banshees? Unsettling. He was tired to his bones. The safe warmth of the Normandy crew deck seemed unreal after a day like the one they'd had, and for some reason it got on his nerves. Not to mention the six people in line before him hadn't budged in the ten minutes since he'd trudged down for a shower. 

Heavy plods behind him announced the arrival of Jimmy Vega, and Garrus turned to see him shirtless with a towel slung over his shoulder. He offered the marine a quick nod as Vega queued behind him.

“Come on, Joker still jacking off in there?”

A female Alliance personnel in front of them made a sour face at the marine which he either ignored or did not notice. 

“Hey Scars.”

“Vega. Where's your shirt?”

“Lost it.” The marine rolled his massive shoulders, and the towel slipped to the ground. “Man,” Vega snapped it up from the floor “busted my ass all day against husks and those turian reaper--”

“Marauder--”

“--things. I want me a shower, a hot rum and bed.”

“I'll take pass on your levo alcohol but yeah, the rest sounds about right.”

Vega pressed his lips together and made the high-pitch call Shepard sometimes used to catch his attention on the battlefield. Garrus spun around to see Traynor walking past them for the toiletries locker. She flipped two of her fingers at Vega, and though he was still just a burgeoning human cultural expert, Garrus recognized rejection when he saw it.

“Tough luck, Vega,” he drawled, sympathetic tone teetering dangerously close to a chortle.

Vega, to his credit, was unfazed. “Naw, Sammy's got her eyes on Blue. But when you see a hot lady you gotta compliment her, you know? It's just disrespectful otherwise.”

“That was respectful?”

“Human women love that shit.”

Garrus narrowed his eyes and the marine laughed. “Ok, so maybe asking them for coffee is safer. Then it's a date.”

“Ok?”

“Don't worry about it hombre. Surprised to see you down here anyhow.”

“What,” he decided to play along “you thought turians don't shower?”

“I'd wondered. Thought you'd roll around in the dust, maybe. You know, like sparrows.”

Garrus looked at him blankly.

“Anyway, with you and Lola being, you know...”

His browplates quirked as Vega made some complicated gesture with his hands. 

“Sorry, missed that,” he said drily. “You've got too many fingers.”

“You know, you and Lola. She, uh. Effects your mass. Mounts yours hammerhead. Shoots of your--”

His eye-plates twitched. Damn, so much for keeping things quiet. The crew members in front of them were straining to look like they weren't listening, and he likewise pretended not to hear the muttered name, _Alenko._ His voice growled a near octave lower than was usually his wont. “I get it, James.”

“--pulse rifle. So what gives?”  
“Would it kill you to keep your voice--what do you mean, _what gives_?”

“I mean, as long as you're enjoying the perks you might as well enjoy all the perks, know what I'm saying?”

“I couldn't be further from knowing what you're saying.”

“Shepard's cabin has its own shower, doesn't it?” Traynor asked, taking the place behind Vega clutching a toothbrush and what appeared to be an unopened tube of toothpaste. Vega opened his mouth and she held up her free hand pre-emptively.“James, you beast, go flirt with someone you really like.”  
Garrus was still in a state of denial. “You too, Traynor? But we hardly-- how did you?”

“I think it's sweet, Garrus.”

“Sweet?”

“You don't see many human turian couples. And you're just like two peas in a pod.”

“Two what? Wait. Couple?”

Vega scoffed. “Yeah, we're getting off the subject. Go up there, you'll be in and out faster than if you waited around here. And me, I get that rum a bit sooner. Everyone wins.”

“Alliance must have like a thousand regulations against that.”

“Scars, the galaxy could be imploded or something by tomorrow. Hell, Lola was blew up the entire Bahak system. You think she's worried about some breach in fraternization protocol?”

He balked at that. “I. Ah. Hmm. I don't know how serious we...” 

The other personnel had given up all pretence of ignoring the conversation, and now all eyes were fixed on him. Traynor gave him an encouraging smile. James crossed his arms.

“Get the hell up there, Scars.”

“I'm not sure--” 

Traynor scooped his shower kit from the floor and placed it in his hands. “Night Garrus,” she chirped, and gave him a none-too-gentle push towards the elevator.

“Dumb bastard. Doesn't even know how lucky he is,” Vega was laughing at someone's expense as he retreated into the elevator.

He punched the keys to the top floor.   
Well, fine. If the entire Normandy knew, he may as well enjoy _all the perks._


	3. Chapter 3

“Garrus?” Shepard, blinking blearily at him. She rose from her desk to meet him, and Garrus started to re-evaluate this invasion of privacy. Looks like she'd fallen asleep there, data pads strewn about her and fallen to the floor. He scooped one up, glancing briefly at its contents ( _Dr Chloe Michel: Credentials and Volunteer Service)_ and placed it with is brothers on the table.

“Am I interrupting anything?”

“No I was just,” she jerked a thumb towards her desk. “Giving up, I guess. What can I do for you?”

“The line for the shower was going to last into the next cycle. Vega suggested I use yours. If that's okay. I know it's, uh--”

“Go on ahead,” she favoured him with an upturn of her lips, tired, but enough to make his heart thud in his chest. “My king-sized personal shower is your king-sized personal shower.”

“King-sized? King of the volus, maybe. ”

“Can it Garrus, or you're back in the gutter with the shlubs.”

He held up his hands. “Ok, ok,” he chuckled. “Shutting up.”

“Oh,” something seemed to occur to her. She dropped down to her knees to rummage through the storage compartment under her bed. “Good timing actually. I picked this up the last time I was on the Citadel, and--”

His omni-tool chimed. He tilted his head in question.

“No, it's ok, go ahead and get it.”

“Thanks Shepard,” he scanned the contents of the message quickly and Shepard found her way back to his side.

“Who is it?”

“Dr Michel again, wondering if I got the chocolates and if we can catch up. Funny, you were just reading about her.”

Shepard blinked at him. “Was I?”

Garrus blinked back. “Weren't you? On that PDA I thought--”

Shepard shoved a woven basket in his hands and surreptitiously made her way back to her desk, where she reached for a datapad. Garrus eyed the golden lettering on a pamphlet inside the basket skeptically.

“Deluxe shower and bath set with luxury scrub for tough hides—now with 25% more volume?”

Maybe the stress was getting to her worse than he had realized.

“Well, I couldn't read all that. But, yeah.”

Garrus frowned. “But why?”

Shepard seemed to look at a point behind him in the wall. “I've heard about the turian public baths. I thought—well, I had to pick up a few things for myself, you know. Like. Soap. And...shampoo? Bubble bath and. Stuff. It doesn't matter. Anyway, there was a turian version. I saw it and I thought of you.”

That sounded familiar. Why did that sound familiar?

“Right.”

He plucked out a bottle of light grey lotion nestled inside the basket. This was a brand from Palaven he was familiar with. A pricey one. But--

“You realize this is, uh, a woman's product?”

This got Shepard's attention. “What?”

“You know how we darken with age? This is supposed to make your hide look lighter. It's not actually a bleach but, it's supposed to, uh, highlight lighter tones.”

The look she threw him was incredulous, and he found himself backing up, just slightly. “The asari running the shop said the fragrance was 'Supple Steel'. You're not telling me the embodiment of turian femininity is metal?”

Garrus laughed. “I don't know about your men, but I wouldn't want to be called supple. More like rugged or sinewy or--” Garrus caught a glimpse of the tight set of her lips and he bit into his tongue “--but this. This is fine. This is _great_ ,” he popped the cap and tried desperately not to wrinkle his nose at the painfully sweet fragrance that wafted out. “Smells like home. And I doubt anyone on board is familiar with turian perfumes or colognes so no one'll be the wiser. Let me just, uh, try it out.”

Shepard retreated to the living space of her quarters to offer him some privacy, and he stepped out of his civvies and into the shower. 

Turning the water on hot as it would go, he worked the silver sheen into a lather with a lacy blue scrubbing apparatus that itched his hide. On the rack lay a solitary bar of white soap. He eyed it with suspicion. 

Very odd. 


	4. Chapter 4

 

In the morning, Garrus rolled over to find Shepard already gone. He looked to the empty space with some disappointment. She had things to do, of course. Something about saving the galaxy and brokering galactic peace, no doubt. He reached down to scratch his foot. She'd mentioned something before they'd become otherwise distracted last night, something about code fragments and an asari war strategist. 

His mandibles stretched at the memory of her pulling him into bed, convincing him to forego the shared dorm for the night. It was one of only two times he'd spent the entirety of the night-cycle in her bed, the other being just before she'd turned herself into the Alliance six months earlier. That had been a sleepless, passionate night, but, for him at least, also a desperate time he didn't like to remember too clearly. 

This time around he hadn't gotten much more sleep. He'd watched her nodding off, noted the dark, glossy fringe fanned out against the pillows, catalogued the little puffs of air she'd exhaled into his neck. Fascinating, that the would-be saviour of galaxy was a soft-skinned supple thing that stole all the covers and mumbled threats idly into his neck _(you're just a machine....machines can be broken)._ To say nothing of the little dribble of drool that pooled at corner of her mouth as she slept. Were saviours supposed to drool? More important, was it weird he found it endearing? Such observations had lasted well into the night-cycle, and it must have been well into the early hours of the night before he'd actually dozed off.

Sighing, he swung himself up and out of bed, and snorted to see her civilian clothes, black and charcoal, flung to every which corner of the room, so uncharacteristically careless for her. After a bit of scouting he found a PDA with a message addressed to him blinking on the dresser next to the bed.

 

_G,_

_Would've said goodbye, but didn't want to wake you up. You look good in my bed.  
_

_Later,_

_S_   


  
He read the message again. And then one more time, eyes skipping to the last part. His chest swelled with pride, and, as he collected his things and stepped out the door, it was an effort to keep the swagger out of his step.

Crazy. This was crazy. His planet was burning. Dad and Solana had barely made if off-world alive. The whole galaxy was falling apart and he? He was...pretty distracted. 

The thought chastised him all the way down the elevator and into the mess. He'd grab a quick breakfast before hitting those firing algorithms again. Tali, alone at a table, waved him down, and after grabbing a calda and an unappetizing mess of dextro paste and rehydrated meat cubes he took a seat next to her. She gave him a once over.

“What?”

“You smell like Miranda on shore leave. ”

Garrus coughed. “Long story.”

Much to his annoyance, Tali giggled from behind her helmet. “Another gift from Dr. Michel? Poor Shepard.”

That gave him pause, and he recalled the datapad on Shepard's desk. “What do you mean?”

Tali's eyes took on a slant that he usually interpreted to be sly, though it was hard to tell through the mask. “Oh, nothing.” 

He speared a meat cube and she took a delicate sip of calda through her _standard issue_ induction port, or, sippy straw as Joker had called it.   
“I heard Shepard is meeting Major Alenko for coffee,” she remarked.

The meat cube slid from his fork and viscous grey gravy splattered on to the table. He reached for a napkin. “Oh?”

“Yes, at Apollo's. Coffee is like our calda, right? A morning stimulant?”

Garrus looked glumly at the steaming cup in front of him. He missed the groan of a chair as Vega sat down at his right, a heap of evil-smelling shrivelled levo-meat on his plate.

“Lola's having lunch with the mojoless Major?”

“Coffee. Kaidan isn't so bad, once you get past his insane loyalty to the Logic Arrest.”

“Whatever you say, Sparks. Mmm, bacon.” Tali averted her eyes as Vega crammed three strips of the flesh into his mouth at once. “Damn that's good,” he said chewing with obvious pleasure. Obvious, because his mouth was wide open. Tali cuffed him on the back of the head.

“Ow! Hey, what?” Vega looked to Garrus for sympathy. “Loco chica—hey! Looks like you really did need that shower Vakarian. Now you're all shiny and shit.”

Garrus pushed his plate to the side, suddenly disinterested in breakfast. He stood.

Tali blinked up at him. “Where are you going?”

He cleared his throat. “Just realized it's been a while since I looked in on the refugee situation. I don't know how long resources can hold out with an influx like the one we're having. I should check it out.”

Tali cocked her head. “But what can you--”

Vega exchanged an indecipherable look with her, one that seemed to cut her off.

“Sounds like a good idea to me. See you later, Scars. ”

Tali shook her head as Garrus uttered a quick goodbye and whisked away to the elevator.


	5. Chapter 5

 

Garrus pushed past a group of batarians huddled at the foot of the stairs. Well, that had been an utter waste of time. A bare half hour and Vitruvius had all but kicked him out of the turian's makeshift refugee camp. Vakarian Jr. was fine with a gun in the field, he had said, but here he was 'just a pain in the ass'. Well, Vakarian Jr. had seen him in action during his C-Sec days and was he ever a lousy shot with a pistol. Clearly monopolizing the relief efforts was a way to compensate for being such a lousy turian. Bastard.

He spared a glance at his omni-tool. 12:30 PM, Citadel Standard Time. Still another three and a half hours until the Normandy was due to chart a course to Thessia. Plenty of time. He could just walk by, just to see if she was--

This was ridiculous.

A vorcha spat at him as he collided hard into its side. He muttered a brief apology, and marched up the flight of stairs, trying to be more mindful of the clusters of people descending and ascending, or at a standstill, looking lost and alone. On the fringes of his vision an unarmed human man caught an asari commando in a fierce embrace. The pair looked tired and scared but it did little to diminish the happiness radiating from them, there, with the refugees and the detritus of thousands of homeless and the Citadel coup all around them. 

He paused. His mandibles flexed as he inhaled deeply. 

Well. 

Just a quick look couldn't hurt. 

He caught the first elevator and made his way Apollo's, tucked away in a corner of the Presidium Commons.

You would never know that the end of civilization was nigh. Here the tables were packed with people from every corner of the galaxy for the lunch rush, but he could see no sign of Shepard or Alenko anywhere. He did, however, spy Liara in the distance, leaning out on a raised balcony and conversing with a figure at her side.

Liara. She was feely and even better, discreet. Maybe she could help him make sense of the mess in his head. He made his way towards her, and had almost reached her when he started at a glimpse of black and charcoal. 

Shepard. She wasn't with Alenko at all. Smiling, Liara rested a hand on their commander's shoulder and steered her towards a tidy row of shops.

Garrus knew he shouldn't, he really did. But he couldn't help himself either. He gathered his C-Sec training to him like a cloak, waited a good fourty-five seconds and followed. 

They strolled into an expensive looking storefront and he ducked in after, casting about for spot to camouflage-- 

Ok, to hide in. Every inch a crazy stalker here. He really was a prize idiot.

Keeping a careful eye on his quarry, he stepped behind a display of tall wall scrolls featuring great expanses of asari flesh and little in the way of clothing.

“How about a calendar?” He risked a peek. Shepard stood six metres or so away with her back to him, flipping through glossy pages with a variety of space cruisers from civilizations across the galaxy. She exchanged it for another with naked human women and asari and even a quarian in nary but her helmet. 

“Hmm,” Liara sidled up close to her. “To remind him of all the time together you might not have?”

“Since when have you been such a downer?”

Liara's profile looked abashed. “I'm sorry, Shepard. That was--”

“No. You're right.”

Garrus fidgeted. Who were they shopping for? Damn it, did it matter, why the hell was he still here? He should just turn around and go. He was invading their privacy. He inched towards the door when suddenly Liara altered course, coming to an abrupt stop between him an the exit. 

Damn it.

The asari held up a PDA. “What about a book?”

“He pirates everything, downloads it straight to his omni-tool.”

The asari clucked her tongue. “Why am I not surprised? We could look at the bed and bath items on the next floor.”

“Because that worked so well for us last time. You know, I can't believe I'm taking advice from the asari who thought toothpaste was the way to a woman's heart.”

Liara sniffed. “Samantha is very serious about her her oral hygiene. If you don't want my help...”

Shepard held her hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. I'm sorry.”

“This is not like you, Shepard.” 

She seemed to miss Liara's teasing tone. “I know. I'm out of my depth here. I mean look at me. I'm shopping.”

Liara laughed, not unkindly.

“And making myself a fool of myself. Ugh, this is bad Liara. If it weren't for that doctor of his.”

Garrus recalled Shepard confiding in him that around the time of Horizon Kaidan was dating a doctor. Kaidan hadn't known of her resurrection at the time, and Shepard hadn't blamed him. But now?He took in the slight slump of Shepard's shoulders and felt the beginning of something ugly twist in his gut.

“Not this again. You don't see the way he looks at you when you're looking away. She has nothing on you,” Liara said, patting the commander's arm awkwardly. 

“Just feminine wiles. Funny, never needed those before.”

“Shepard, you're ten times the woman she is.”

“In the sense that I could crush her skull.” Shepard made a loose fist before her, and the air crackled blue briefly.

“Oh, put that away.”

“Damn it,” Shepard's arm fell to her side. “I can't even hate her properly. She's impeccable. Great credentials, works with the needy. Of course she'd have to have a good head on her shoulders _and_ do noble work.”

The asari gave her a hard look. “As noble as making peace between the geth and the quarians? Or curing the genophage?”

“There's that,” Shepard said softly and Liara gripped her shoulder. “There's that. Thanks, I know I'm not really thinking straight where he's concerned. C'mon, let's try somewhere else.”

“Agreed. Shepard, do all humans consider cranial symmetry when looking for a mate? I'm sure many people like your head. It is very well-proportioned.”

Shepard barked a laugh that rang across the store. They turned their backs to him.

Enough. He all but tripped over his feet in his haste to get out of the shop. 

She was perfectly within her rights, of course. This relieving tension, it was all they had ever set out to do. They'd never discussed more, hell, he'd probably even discouraged the idea with his hesitancy back on the SR-2. They'd never talked of exclusivity or holds on each other. Did humans even bond with a single partner the way turians did? Why hadn't he thought to look this up until now?People and vehicles blurred together as he hastened back to and through the docking bay.

What were they then? What was he to her?

The warm feeling was now a slow burn that churned and roiled in his gut, and what a time this was to finally own up to what that meant.

He stalked up the gangway and into the airlock for decontamination. He could hear Vega's voice beyond the airlock, and a less distinct feminine murmur. 

“Don't worry, Captain Canuck is spoken for. He doesn't need to know that though.”

“Course I don't know everything about everyone's love life on the Normandy. But seriously, you should stop waiting for an email from that Reegar guy and--”

He surged through the airlock to find Vega with a finger to his earpiece in the midst of a conversation via headset. The marine paused at the sight of him.

“Woah, easy Scars. You alright?”

“Fine.”

Garrus all but stomped for the elevator. 


	6. Chapter 6

Time seemed to crawl. He knew there were a hundred other things he should be doing-- calibrating, co-ordinating troop movements with the general, a status report for Victus, calibrating. Maybe even try to put a word into Sol. But it was no good, for better or worse he had to get this over with. He paced the short hallway of the fifth floor. If he had been obvious enough James had been able to read the feelings all over his face he had to look like a wreck.

Which was about he felt. 

He was beginning to wonder if Shepard would even return to her quarters before diving right back into diplomacy when his omni-tool pinged with a new IM.

**TaliZ: Garrus, what's going on?**

He sighed.

**G: What do you mean?**

**TaliZ: James said you looked upset.**

**G: Of course he did. I'm not.**

**TaliZ: Ok. But where are you? I checked the battery. And you're not in the dorms or the lounge.**

Garrus cursed beneath his breath.

**TaliZ: Don't make me look it up.**

**G: I'm fine, Tali.**

**TaliZ: That was the wrong answer...running a scan...the first floor? Are you waiting for Shepard? Did something happen?**

**G: I'm fine.**

**TaliZ: Oh keelah, this is all my fault, I was just trying to make you two aadasofhieevvn**

**G:?**

**TaliZ: Arrrgh, sorry, James is with me, he's trying to stop me fromaafaasaaasfdrtelling you.**

**TaliZ: agtasklafasafbosh'tet, he keeps smashinffxg the keyboardglesfly;;gufy**

**G: Telling me what?**

**TaliZ: He thinks you need to gggggggghhhh out on your own but he toldffeaajlise's as stupid aseeeeyouaslarrus it's not what you                                     rrrrrrreelleeShepasaasas  
**

**TaliZ: ajjjsiiiisiiiiiiii**

**TaliZ: fffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff**

 He tried to ignore this near constant pinging of his omni-tool from then on, though he startled when Vega's voice broke over his headset. “Scars! Don't be a pussy man, the Lola is headed your way.”

“You know, I don't even have the slightest idea what you--”

Thedoors to the elevator sprung open, and, hastily, Garrus cut the comm-link.

Shepard was alone. She carried an oblong box that obscured all of her expression save the slightest widening of her eyes and the lift of her browplates. Eyebrows. 

“Garrus?” she stepped out from the elevator. “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you. I, uh, wanted to chat. About,” Garrus looked hard at the ceiling. “Our situation.”

Shepard nodded tersely, and, box balanced on her hip, keyed in the code to her cabin. She motioned for him to follow. 

“Is your omni-tool broken?” 

“Uh. Let me put that on silent.” He punched in the command and swallowed. Now that he was here, he was losing his nerve. His gaze strayed to the aquarium, and he followed the path of a brown eels as it slithered into a rocky crevasse. 

“What's up, Garrus?”

His eyes darted to her. “I uh. I saw with you Liara.”

Shepard looked as uncomfortable as he felt. She set the box on the floor and crossed her arms. “Yeah? ”

“Shopping for a man. I--” he took a deep breath to steady himself. “I know you and the Major had your thing back when we were chasing Saren, and he's closer to home for you but, I--damn it, Shepard,” his hands fisted at his sides “I wish you'd just told me.”

Shepard was blinking rapidly at him. “What?”

“--I would never let something like fraternization get in the way of my duty to you. This has been a hell of a ride and there's more to us than just this. But--”

“What are you getting at?”

“Are you seeing Alenko?” he blurted.

Shepard stared at him. 

“Say again?”

“Tali said you were meeting him for coffee.”

“So?”

Garrus swallowed. “Vega said that in human culture meeting for coffee is a date.”

“Well, it can be in a lot of human cultures,” she was looking at him like he was some kind of crazy. “In this case though, coffee was just coffee. Kaidan was getting my opinion on some spectre business. It's a big responsibility and he's new to it all. Things being the way they are though neither the brass or the council have the resources to give him the kind of support he needs.” She paused here and lifted one of her eyebrows. “But me and Kaidan? Definitely not a thing. It was only that once, Garrus. We haven't been involved since I died,” she stopped, a quizzical look on her features. “Alright, that didn't sound as weird in my head. But you catch my drift.” 

Garrus's heart beat a little faster. “But what about—” he gestured towards the box. 

It was either his imagination, or Shepard was looking sheepish. “Well, you're part-way right. It's for a man. Here.”

It was Garrus's turn to blink, as Shepard thrust the package into his chest.

“Shepard. I don't--”

“Open it.”

“I trust you. I don't need to--”

“Garrus,” Shepard's voice took on a steely quality. “Open. The damn. Box.”

Like a good turian, he did so. And any other time, its contents might of had him in stitches. As it was, he was utterly confused.

“A carapace cozy?”  


Shepard was glaring down at her shoes. “Turian scarf.”

He was flummoxed. “But you were shopping for...”

A gentle pink was rising to her cheeks. “Yeah. So you haven't noticed my attempts to win you over then.”  


Garrus scratched his head. “But you were talking about some doctor who--”

Realization stole the breath from his lungs.  


The datapad. Tali. And she had said--

Oh. _Oh._

“Michel.”

But then...  


Shepard rubbed the back of her neck. “I'm sorry I put you through this. I thought that giving you these, uh, tokens of affection, would make things clearer, but clearly that bombed. Words, Garrus. Seems I know how to talk to every species, every person in the galaxy but the one that matters most. Around you it's like my mouth is full of marbles, so I tried to show you but--"

"Tell me," he said, slowly. “Try again.”

She heaved a sigh, but, true to form, did not look away. She caught his gaze and held it. “Bottom line? Since our run to the Omega Relay there's been no one else for me. Couldn't be.”

It hit him like a citadel transit train.

Garrus's life had been full of luck, lots good, and plenty more bad. Discovering that the best and most perfect person in the universe was as stupid head over heels for you as you were for her maybe days from the end of it all--that seemed to fit right in. He should have confronted her long ago. But late was better than too late, because this was Shepard. Shepard, the hero, the champion of peace and krogan head-butter. The fiercest of hearts, the best of his friends and-- she was damned hot. He turned the carapace warmer over in his hands, and a chuckle escaped his mouth. 

A C-Sec rookie fresh out of training could have wrapped that mystery up in half an hour. But where Shepard was involved he fell to pieces. And from the looks of things, she didn't fare much better. 

Idiots. They were the biggest idiots in the galaxy. What had Traynor said, like two spherical seeds in a capsule? One and the same. 

He prodded the yellow-knit garment with a finger, and started to laugh. Shepard looked warily at him, countenance still caught somewhere between agony and hope, and somehow, even though it shouldn't have been, that was funny too.  
“Shepard, this is awful,” he managed between chuckles. 

“Shut it, Vakarian.”

“This is the ugliest thing I have ever seen.”

“They were out of blue,” she muttered, and Garrus crushed her to him before she had the chance to shut herself away from him.

“My grandmother wouldn't wear this,” he continued to hide the fact that his legs had developed a ridiculously ill-timed nervous tremor. If Shepard noticed, she didn't say. He draped the golden material over her shoulders, but with Shepard missing the rather pivotal carapace, it flopped to her midback.

“I thought you could use a scarf. You know, since you complain the entire time we hit a planet with temperatures below fourteen degrees centigrade.”

“I do not.” 

She huffed. “Damn it. I knew I should have gotten you the Xeno-Illustrated swimsuit quarterly.”

“I thought that the whole point of courting was that it would preclude my ogling other women.”

“Yeah, but it would show you that I would be a cool girlfriend, I—aw crap, I'm so bad at this. Look, are you going to shoot me down now or just leave me to suffer? ”

“Shepard,” he breathed, brushing a piece of the feathery dark fringe from her face. She leaned into his hand, just minutely. “Shepard. The t'tu lavas. And the soap. This...abomination. These gifts are your way of asking me to, what, go steady with me?”

“Before the good doctor made her move, yeah," she grumbled into his neck. "What? It could have worked.”  
  
Jealousy? He'd never seen it on Shepard. Somehow, he thought it would have involved less awkwardness and a lot more broken bones. He released her to look into her eyes. “The good doctor could never even come close. Shepard. At first you brought me purpose, but now," he touched the soft skin of her face. "Now you are my purpose. I think about everything at stake but when I think of losing you, I." He shook his head. "I can't--" 

She gripped his hand and he squeezed back, hard. “Hey--” 

"So if you think there's anyone else I could want more, you're crazy.”

Typical of her, she did not look as shell-shocked as he had felt just moments before. After a breath the corners of her mouth tugged upwards. “Says the turian who stalked me through a coffee date and sale-day at the Citadel?”

“Boyfriends are allowed to stalk. There was a precedent a few years back in C-Sec.”

“Yeah, pretty sure you made that up.”

“It's legit,” he pulled her in close again and pressed his mouth to her fringe. “Also, boyfriends are allowed to draw a bead on anyone who checks out their girlfriend. Especially when said-boyfriend is a handsome turian with scars.”

“As long as said-girlfriend gets to crush the dreams of every pretty french doctor who flutters her eyelashes at him.”

“My girlfriend, the crusher of dreams,” he quipped.  


"So it's official: we're a thing."

"The best damn thing."

She flashed him a delighted grin, the likes of which he'd never seen her wear before.  
And if he was honest with himself, that was actually the best damn thing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading friends, this one has been fun to write!


End file.
